


Concinnity

by Val_Creative



Series: No Angst June/Domestic Fluff Month [29]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Dark Will Graham, Domestic, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Living Together, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor Violence, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Post-Season/Series 03, Romance, Running Away, Sexual Content, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham is a Cannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24988666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Will and Hannibal find a home and discuss marriage.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: No Angst June/Domestic Fluff Month [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769860
Comments: 8
Kudos: 125





	Concinnity

**Author's Note:**

> You can make domestic fluff for these two. Sure! Just add blood! 😂 Please enjoy! Any comments/thoughts appreciated!
> 
> _"Concinnity" (n): harmony or elegance of design._

*

29\. House Cleaning

The inside of Will's plastic head-mask smells distinctly of lemon. He's not sure where from.

Will lowers his pistol onto the shiny, marble-topped counter. He avoids stepping into a vat of fresh blood. The alarm system blares. As soon as he shuts it off, it alerts one of the security company's representatives, blaring their voice instead through the speakers.

"Hello. This is Kare Kall Security. May I ask who I am speaking with?"

 _"Leopold Henry Price,"_ comes the gruff, annoyed voice from the recording device in Will's hand.

"May I get your password for security purposes?"

_"Britney Spears."_

Will involuntarily curls his lip. Only a teenage girl or a man still interested in teenage girls would have made that their security sode password.

"Thank you, Mr. Price. We have a back door alert—"

 _"Yeah,"_ Will taps the button again for audio recorded nearly two weeks ago. _"Sorry. I accidentally set it off."_

"Is there anyone else in the house with you, Mr. Price?"

Will glances out of the corner of his eye to Hannibal, in the same plastic-protective coverings from head to toe, walking in practiced silence. He's dragging along a bloody torso. _"It's only my husband Richard here with me."_

"Do you require any further assistance?"

_"No. Thank you."_

The alarm system whirs and restarts.

Will removes his head-covering, inhaling deeply. Sweat drips down his forehead.

This estate owned by Mr. Price has a dramatic and old-fashioned beauty to it. Marble for the kitchen, along with platinum fixtures and white wood cabinets. The floors and walls have the white marble appearance as do all of the first floor rooms.

But… there's hidden rooms.

Rooms for the young, frightened girls he's been trafficking to other important businessmen.

Will, very much, did not feel so much pity for Mr. Price writhing and gagging on his own blood when Will shot him in the chest.

"Very clever," Hannibal says quietly, muffling through his clear hazmat suit.

Dark red splatters on his soft, transparent visor.

Will raises his eyebrows. "Not an original idea," he argues. Sometimes… _these days_ … psychopaths and killers inspire Will. Tapping into his victim's phone calls and recording their personal and private conversations do come in handy. Admittedly.

"Who did turn out to be Mr. and Mrs. Marlow's killer?"

He doesn't answer.

Will leaves the blood-drenched entrance between the kitchen and foyer, looking for a bottle of aspirin.

His plastic-covered foots squeak.

There's enough meat to slice up and carve between Mr. Price and his friend lying to the state of California about being Mr. Price's husband.

 _Another_ child trafficker.

It's entirely circumstantial that Will stumbled on this while looking for places to stay.

Hannibal slowly will take his time, preparing and cleaning the meat. Roasting it. Violence brings on _the hunger_.

Will can see him cooking a dish of filet mignon pooling in its juices and in a rich balsamic glaze. Served with asparagus. Baby red potatoes and grilled butternut squash drizzled in a shallot vinaigrette. Will can already taste the dark red wine from the cellar, tingling on his lips and inside his mouth. Hannibal will insist they eat even more _slowly_ , basking in the knowledge of hard work achieved.

They'll make love on thousands of dollars worth of bedding until Will nearly passes out, clutching onto Hannibal and feeling him rubbing his fingers gently over Will's swollen, cum-oozing hole. Easing him open. Smiling against Will's dark, unshaven cheek.

"Will?" Hannibal's voice filters into Will's hazy thoughts.

"Do you have an opinion on husbands, Hannibal?"

Hannibal appears contemplative, removing his plastic and blood-soaked mitts. "The general concept?" he announces. "Or us?"

Will drags his teeth over his bottom lip.

"I suppose… both… if I am being honest," he mumbles. Will's expression softens when Hannibal's left hand cradles his nape. There's security in this. In being so close to Hannibal that everything else fades and they're _one and the same_.

"Marrying you would delight me, Will." Hannibal examines him, their foreheads touching. "If I were to be honest as well."

"You approve of the concept?"

"Very much."

Will tilts his head, skimming his mouth over Hannibal's lips. "Good," he whispers.

*


End file.
